Mornings
by goldheart
Summary: Rated for Language and HEAVILY implied slash. Fluff, WIP, SSHP, non-sexy, concerning the mornings POST-sexy.
1. Chapter 1: First Morning

The first morning was a Sunday.  
  
Severus Snape carefully extricated his legs and arms from embraces, from vice grips. He made no lingering touches as he stood and gathered his clothes from the floor. Harry Potter's bathroom door closed with a click.  
  
Harry Potter made a small noise like morning ache as in his bathroom, Severus Snape pulled at the bags beneath his eyes, not hearing, making like he could smooth away years, making like he could stretch his skin back across his bones, making idle gestures to himself.  
  
Severus Snape resisted the temptation to open Harry Potter's medicine cabinet and turned from Harry Potter's mirror. He caught the reflection of vessels under skin as he moved his neck and there it was, a mark. Severus Snape only ever blushed with his whole body.  
  
Severus Snape felt ridiculous, naked and now half collapsed on Harry Potter's toilet with his head in his hands.  
  
Harry Potter listened and heard the small click of the bathroom door opening again.  
  
Severus Snape retrieved his wool overcoat from where it was strewn across the back of Harry Potter's blue armchair, and shrugged it over broad shoulders. Perfunctory blind touches by pale hands made sure his wand was in his pocket. He made for the door; it was raining, it was drizzling, it was a Sunday morning and it was grey outside of Harry Potter's flat.  
  
Severus Snape thought fleetingly of coming in from the rain instead of going out into it, but turned up his collar (to keep the rain out, to keep the rain out) and turned the knob and concentrated on silence, mostly, and maybe he didn't think of anything this morning, so soon after night.  
  
As Severus Snape crossed the threshold of Harry Potter's house, as he walked down the steps, as he turned the corner to the back alley and made his legs walk to the wall, Harry Potter sat up slightly, rubbed his eyes without the bags, and got up to bolt the door.  
  
As Severus Snape disappeared with a small pop of displaced air, Harry Potter sunk back into warm sheets and hugged the pillow to his chest, inhaling the scent and the sex and the things the rain would soon take from Severus Snape.

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A/N: gabblediflkjgjblhbwashhh. I'm terrible. 


	2. Chapter 2: Second Morning

The second night and Severus Snape didn't know what day it was.  
  
He allowed himself a hiss as he carefully set both feet on Harry Potter's floor. It had grown cold at the bottom of this flat. A blind search yielded Harry Potter's slippers, hidden a bit beneath the bed, and Severus Snape allowed himself a smile (a little) as he shoved them on his feet, two sizes too large for anything of Harry Potter's.  
  
Harry Potter cracked an eye open and bit his lip down hard as a bare skinned be-slippered Severus Snape hunted for a discarded belt in the cinder and ash on the floor of his fireplace.  
  
The bathroom mirror was blissfully silent as Severus Snape splashed cold water on his face. He liked muggle mirrors, he decided, resting his elbows on the edges of Harry Potter's sink and feeling a little bit like collapsing on Harry Potter's tile and never getting up.  
  
Severus Snape allowed himself a strangled sound that didn't reach the ears of Harry Potter through the wall (though Harry Potter was listening carefully). Water dripped off Severus Snape's tapered fingertips and back into the sink from whence they came.  
  
He washed them thoroughly before he left. A swat and a grunt the night previous had prevented any marks, on his neck, at least.  
  
As the cold air sunk into the bones of Severus Snape, Harry Potter smiled (because Severus Snape had made sure to leave his slippers exactly as he had found them) and stretched until his bones cracked.  
  
As Severus Snape turned the corner into the alleyway and allowed himself for once not to look both ways before disapparating, Harry Potter locked his flat's door and set water to boiling.  
  
As Severus Snape disappeared, almost soundlessly from much practice, and did not allow himself to remember the shape of Harry Potter's sink or the color of Harry Potter's armchair or the lasting taste of Harry Potter's lips, Harry Potter drank tea with sugar and absentmindedly thought of how Severus Snape would take tea this early in the morning, this soon after night.

* * *

A/N: grrrahhgallabaf. Siiigh. 


	3. Chapter 3: Third Morning

It was the third morning; the third time. Severus Snape was fairly certain that it was a Tuesday.  
  
Harry Potter wasn't certain of much of anything this early but that, fuck him, he would not be bolting the bloody door again.  
  
The belt buckle has smashed into the mirror over the dresser and Severus Snape looked at himself fragmented and wondered where he'd left his shoes this time.  
  
This time, this time being the third time, the third fucking time, Severus Snape began to notice things that belonged to Harry Potter. His toothbrush wasn't red, but blue. It had bristles in strange shapes, because maybe that helped somehow. Severus Snape didn't trust charms with his mouth and so had begun wishing maybe that he kept a toothbrush in Harry Potter's bathroom, which was a funny thing to wish because after this time, the third time, this wouldn't happen again.  
  
This being waking up with Harry Potter and dressing in Harry Potter's bathroom. This being returning home in the clothes he left in. This being touching Harry Potter and being touched by Harry Potter.  
  
Severus Snape watched a plant die on Harry Potter's bathroom windowsill from where he had not gotten up off the floor. Harry Potter had unnervingly clean tiles and a welcoming bath mat and a blissfully silent mirror.  
  
Severus Snape noticed the fabric of the blue armchair beneath his coat had small stripes on it, and that Harry Potter was the sort of man who used post its.  
  
One read 'Remember to call Henry for directions' and another two held phone numbers, captioned by names.  
  
Severus Snape didn't think about why he remembered those later, after the after shocks of sex with Harry Potter had faded and a week had passed.  
  
Harry Potter also had roughly a week and a half's worth of unopened post on his hallway table when the top layer of letters fell as the door opened and the wind came in. Severus Snape allowed himself a small groan as he knelt to pick up the bills and adverts from the scuffed floor of Harry Potter's flat.  
  
Severus Snape stood before Harry Potter's open door with Harry Potter's post in hand, with the wind being terrible, and nearly died when Harry Potter called out from his bedroom that Severus Snape could use the hidden key over the door to lock it behind him, if he didn't mind.  
  
Severus Snape died a little as he fumbled to lock Harry Potter's door and ran down Harry Potter's stone stair, with Harry Potter's key left in his pocket, nestled by his wand and the name of the apothecary that woman recommended, and Harry Potter was very much alive as he shivered, and he only shivered bodily, with the memory of Severus Snape's hands clutched by his own as he slept.

* * *

A/N: ARRSSEEEHHGHHBBALG. I can do no worthwhile. 


End file.
